


Friday Night Fantasies

by Bugggghead



Series: Bughead Drabbles & One Shots [13]
Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anon Prompt, Betty accidentally sends him smutty fanfiction thinking it's an article, Canon Divergent, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hilarity Ensues, Veronica Mars References, ask prompt, follows up to when jug joins the blue and gold then goes haywire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 00:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugggghead/pseuds/Bugggghead
Summary: Anonymous said:I have had this prompt in my head for a while, and it goes like this: Betty is supposed to e-mail Jughead an article for Blue & Gold, but she accidentally sends a wrong file *gasp* and as it turns out, Betty has been writing, ahem... a different (and way sexier) kind of stories in her free time. I'll leave it to you what happens after. :)Canon divergent after 1/03 - Jughead has just joined the Blue and Gold





	Friday Night Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @jandjsalmon for helping me form this idea from the prompt. Thanks @peyton_0727 for always being willing to provide a second set of eyes and beta-ing my impromptu fics on a whim.

 

*  
  
  


“ Would I get complete freedom?” Jughead asked skeptically, already well aware of her most likely answer.

 

A smile played on the edges of her lips as she tilted her head in apparent thought. “I'll help, and edit And suggest.” It was glaringly obvious that  _ no _ , he wouldn’t get complete freedom solely based on her attempt to dance around a definitive  _ yes _ or  _ no _ but before he could reject the offer she cut in again, “But it's your story, it's your voice,” she quickly added, trying to soften the blow.

  
“Doesn't sound like complete freedom,” he teased, captivated by the hopeful look in her eyes and utterly unable to say ‘no’ in that instant, “but I'm in,” he finally acquiesced. 

  
Betty grinned in response, bringing her hands up and clamping them together in front of her, clearly excited. “Okay great! Um, in that case, I have your first assignment. There's one person who was at the river on July 4th that no one's talking about.”

  
“Dilton Doiley and his Scouts,” he answered the second she finished talking, both of them following the same train of thought.   
  


“Exactly.”

 

-

  
  


Unfortunately, he had been right. It didn’t sound like complete freedom because it wasn’t. 

 

Jughead had only officially joined the Blue and Gold a few days prior and had already begun working on his first story. He sent Betty the first draft of the article about Dilton and in less than a day, she had already heavily edited sections before sending it back to him with an abundance of notes. He took some and ignored others before sending a second draft back to her. Again, within hours, Betty sent back another document and he groaned loudly, knowing it would surely be full of red marks here and notes there, the story littered with her ‘suggestions’ and ‘thoughts’.

 

It was Friday and Jughead didn’t particularly feel like going to Riverdale’s football game against Greendale that night. He briefly considered going to Pop’s before deciding it too would be packed full of people both before and after the game. Instead, he opted to hole himself up in the Blue and Gold office to review Betty’s suggestions, knowing he was far more likely to get something accomplished there than wherever he wound up sleeping that night. Jughead was a homeless high school sophomore spending most of his nights in the drive-in’s projection booth, desperately trying to avoid his father’s varying stages of inebriation, depending on the day and how long he’d been at it by that point. So, the Blue and Gold seemed to be the lesser of all evils.

 

Other than the noise from a passing car here or there, it was eerily silent at the drive-in most nights. The lack of any sounds only further solidified the aching feeling of isolation that crept up on him as the sun set each night. As he booted up his laptop and settled into the desk, the sounds of the band mixed with the cheers of the crowd and he found it to be a welcome reprieve from the deafening silence he would surely be met with if he had worked at his makeshift ‘home’ instead. 

 

Jughead opened up his email, looking for Betty’s message and clicked on the link to download the file. He let out a deep sigh, tugging off his beanie and combing his fingers through the unruly mess of black curls that had been trapped beneath it for far too long. Writing was something that had always come naturally to Jughead and to see his pieces get marked up with suggestion after suggestion was kind of a blow to his ego. Although, he had to admit - at least to himself - that her revisions were almost always spot on. Betty seemed to have an uncanny ability to polish things in such a way that his voice wasn’t lost in the piece even with her edits.  _ She truly was the perfect editor, _ he thought. 

 

To say Jughead Jones had a simple crush on Betty Cooper would have been a horrendous understatement. He had been desperately and - he knew, hopelessly - in love with her for longer than he could remember. They grew up together, both best friends with Archie Andrews, the boy next door, the only real thread that tied them together before he so recklessly agreed to join the Blue and Gold. His crush on her had been manageable for years, easily subdued with the constant nagging notion that she wanted Archie and one day he would probably open his eyes and realize he wanted her too. Lately, however, that seemed to change.

 

With the arrival of Park Avenue Princess Veronica Lodge, it had been obvious Archie’s affections were being misdirected again, away from Betty. But this time, she hadn’t seemed so glum. There was no slumping of her shoulders when she walked or longing looks thrown after their red headed best friend. Instead, in a surprising move, she appeared to have befriended the object of Archie’s latest affections. Jughead hadn’t warmed to the youngest Lodge yet but Betty’s innate propensity to move on piqued his interest.

 

When the file finally loaded the only words Jughead registered were ‘Veronica’, ‘bulge’ and ‘desire’. He slammed the laptop shut and looked around, as if someone had seen his childish reaction to whatever he accidentally opened up. Surely that hadn’t been what Betty meant to send. 

 

He slowly cracked the lid of the laptop again, inching it open and stared at the page in front of him. This time though, he didn't look away. 

 

The document was all of about five hundred words and it was clearly not his article. The whole passage was in italics and it appeared to be a piece of fiction set in a dream sequence from what he could gather from the limited passage. He felt a smile spread across his cheeks unabashedly, knowing no one was there to observe it. Perfect Betty Cooper was writing out dirty fantasies about the new girl and Jughead was fascinated by the mere prospect of Betty even exploring a remotely sexual side  _ and _ with a female.  _ Maybe she liked girls, _ he thought.

 

It was no secret that they were all on the cusp of adulthood, puberty made its way through the group over the last few years and it had been more than kind to Betty. If Jughead thought she was pretty in her younger years, well ‘hot’ was the only word that seemed to fit her now. 

 

Lost in his own thoughts, Jughead didn’t hear the tell tale sound of sneakers squeaking against the freshly waxed floors, only snapping out of his own reverie when the door handle jiggled and he heard the door creak open. Jughead jumped up and slammed down the lid on his laptop, spinning around to see who was coming in. 

 

Betty walked through the door, surprised to see Jughead sitting at the desk, looking a little disheveled without his typical armor consisting of a well worn woolen beanie and his Sherpa jacket with flannel underneath. He was wearing only a white tank top and a pair of dark jeans that hung dangerously low on his hips, his typical flannel tied around the waist only drug the pants further down. Realizing she had been staring for a beat too long, her eyes snapped up to his face and saw his cheeks flushed. _That’s strange_ _i_ she thought, _Jughead doesn’t blush_.

 

“Hey, Juggie,” she chirped, padding over to his desk and leaning against it. She crossed her legs at the ankle, hoping her position might drive the polyester blue and gold skirt up just a bit higher, drawing his attention. Her plan worked and she smiled at the way his eyes darted down to her long legs. She had been playing a game of cat and mouse with him for weeks, trying to judge how he was feeling, drowning in her own realizations of the massive crush she had developed on him in the previous months. “What are you doing here so late?”

 

“Uh,” he stuttered, running his long fingers through the thick curls, “I’m, um,” he cleared his throat, piquing her interest further. “I’m just working on my article.”

 

“Oh, good,” she said in feigned excitement. That was definitely not what she had hoped.

 

“Betty,” he began, his voice dropping an octave in time with the feeling of unease dropping deep into her stomach, “I don’t think you sent me the article.”

 

“Oh! Um, yeah. I sent it to you earlier. Didn’t you get the email?” she attempted to recover. She hoped he hadn’t noticed how flustered he was making her as her words tumbled out of her mouth in an uncharacteristic manner. She tried her best not to stare at his surprisingly muscular arms that were on full display in the tank top as she collected her thoughts. The email had been sent during her free period and she knew it went through based on the  read receipt she got when he opened it earlier during the game. 

 

“Yeah. I got  _ an _ email,” he said cautiously.

 

Betty’s confusion increased tenfold as she pulled out her phone and sifted through her sent messages. She clicked on the one for Jughead and flipped the phone around to show him. “See, I sent it. You even opened it.”

 

Jughead’s blush returned, seeping into his cheeks as he reached a tentative finger forward and pressed on her screen. She quirked an eyebrow at him but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Turning the phone around she realized he had opened the attachment for her to see. 

 

_ OH MY GOD _ , she thought, quickly clicking the home screen and figuring out what on earth she could possibly come up with to cover it. Little did Betty know, the night before as she was finishing up her edits, she had saved the file under the wrong name. Somehow, when she cleared the page and began the story - her ‘guilty pleasure’ - it had kept the original document name and overwrote his entire article.  _ FUCK! _

 

“I….um….” she tried to find the words to explain but couldn’t. 

 

Betty sat in silence for a minute, trying to figure out what she could possibly say. She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor without another word and just disappear.  _ He read your smutty fanfiction _ , she thought, cursing herself for being so careless with her organization. All of her files had always been saved under a specific folder on a USB drive she kept tucked away from prying eyes but last night she was so tired she just typed right into a normal document, telling herself at the time she’d move the file later. Somehow her careless mistake the night before came back to bite her in the butt quicker than she thought possible.

 

“It’s okay, Betty,” he said softly, reaching a hand forward and resting it on her forearm, effectively stopping her impending spiral.

 

Her cheeks burned, surely saturated with a crimson stain. “Okay, so we don’t ever have to speak of this again, Jug.”

 

He tried his best to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in his chest. “Well, maybe if I had known you liked the dark haired Latina variety I would have given up years ago,” he teased, hoping his own bit of embarrassment might ease her overwhelming sense of it in that moment. 

 

“What dark haired Latina are you talking about?” she blurted out, apparently losing his own confession in the sentiment.

 

“Um,” Jughead shifted nervously, it had taken every drop of courage in his entire body to say the previous sentiment and something about telling Betty he knew she wrote mature pieces about her newly minted best friend was going to take more than he had to spare at that moment. Before he could continue she spoke up again.

 

“Wait, hold on,” she said, a smile creeping onto her face, “back up again. Given what up years ago, Juggie?” she prodded.

 

Jughead shifted from one foot to the other, thinking of what he could possibly say to backtrack from the confession that seemed a bit too real at the moment. An ill timed joke rooted in too much truth to have been told between two friends in the newspaper office on a Friday night. He knew his slip of the tongue was beyond uncharacteristic but it had been exhausting being close enough to touch her for days yet feeling like she was a million miles away. Whatever changed over the past summer, when school started and they were shoved together again, even alone sometimes, he found his undeniable feelings for her overwhelming him more than once. 

 

“You were writing about Veronica right?” he attempted to redirect the conversation. 

 

“Yeah,” Betty said cautiously, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place as the word drawled from her lips. “Wait. No. Not Veronica Lodge. OH MY GOD!”

 

Jughead laughed at the myriad of emotions that flowed through her features from confusion all the way to embarrassment. “Not Veronica Lodge but a different Veronica? I wasn’t aware we had more than one Veronica here in Riverdale.”

 

“We don’t,” said simply. “Okay, fine. You’ve seen it anyway. I was writing fanfiction for um, for Veronica Mars. It’s set in Neptune, not Riverdale, and it’s honestly embarrassing. So if we could go back to never speaking of this again I’d really appreciate it.”

 

“Oh,” he said simply.

 

“Yeahhhh.” Betty shifted awkwardly, staring at her feet on the floor and feeling as if she could quite possibly die from embarrassment in that instant. “Anyway, what was that you were saying about giving up something years ago?”

 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Betts,” he warned, unable to resist her blatant questioning, secretly hoping she was more than just pressing the matter for fun. 

 

“So what if I am,” she said softly, glancing up to meet his eyes, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and her emerald eyes darkened in an unfamiliar way.

 

“Betty,” he sighed weakly, “please don’t make me go there. It’s been a long day and I just don’t have it in me right now.”

 

“Jug,” she returned, sliding her body along the desk, settling into the space right next to him, their thighs mere inches apart, “tell me what you would have given up years ago.”

 

Their eyes were still locked in an intense gaze, hers widened, soft around the edges, as open as they could possibly be and his hooded, partially covered by the furrowed brow and weary expression he couldn’t help settling on his features. He noticed her eyes dart down to his lips as he licked one subconsciously, taken aback by their new proximity and the sheer amount of skin her cheerleading uniform showed. The walls he had so meticulously crafted over the years faltered, small cracks that formed over the last few weeks slowly spread. His defenses were weak, at best, that night already and with the way she was looking at him, he couldn’t stop what happened next.

 

Jughead tentatively reached a hand up tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He let his hand linger for a moment before cupping her jaw and leaning down. He hovered over her lips for a moment, taking in the sight of her, eyes closed, chest heaving and soft lips parted. Closing the final few centimeters that separated them, he pressed his lips against hers securely, firmly connecting their mouths and drawing her forward more. He felt her arms wind around his waist, drawing him closer and a sense of calm settled over him. All of his fantasies of kissing Betty Cooper paled in comparison to the real thing. There were not tongues or teeth, but plenty of heat between the two as the pressure increased.

 

The parted slowly and looked at each other, both smiling softly.

 

“I think I’m glad I didn’t give up,” he whispered, the pad of his thumb stroking her cheek.

 

“Me too,” she breathed, leaning forward again until their lips met in the middle.

  
  
*

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all liked this! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @bugggghead


End file.
